Me First
by moor
Summary: SaiMono-verse-ish. Shuurei x Seiran. "I won't be put off. My Lady has been absent for nearly a month, and we will spend some time together immediately, not later." Rated 'M' for themes, to be cautious.


Shuurei felt the faintest touch against the nape of her neck, and smiled.

But refused to turn around.

"Coming to bed soon?" His soft, deep voice followed the trail his fingertips had made, warming her from the inside, and she couldn't help the small smile that tugged at the corners of her mouth. If she was being honest with herself, she admitted she'd missed him so much it had left her aching and alone at night, but she still had just a little bit left to go before she crawled into the warmed bed and his arms.

A perfectly shaped nose nuzzled her loose, dark hair, inhaling the scent of her longingly.

"Soon," she replied, tearing her thoughts from him so her focus was entirely on her work. It was difficult, but she persevered. It had taken her weeks to collect all her evidence, and now she was ready to bring it forward – she just needed to document everything to make it iron-clad. Determined to bring justice to those who'd been wronged, she was prepared to write through until morning in order to deliver the missive to her superior at first light. So, she was indeed being honest, of course she'd come to bed… eventually. Heavens knew she could use the comfort, the stress 'relief'. But duty was duty.

Seiran, however, had other ideas about her priorities, particularly on how his diligent Lady should be spending her nights.

His lips pressed lightly to the shell of her ear, his words warm against her sensitive skin.

"Anything I can do to help move things along?"

She refused to look away from the page laid out before her, but the fingers of her right hand tightened slightly with nervousness, giving her away. She couldn't let herself get distracted! There were people who were depending on her.  
The bare, firm chest she had automatically leaned into rumbled slightly with his amusement—he had noticed her reaction.

"I'm fine," she said.

"I would be happy to assist in any way," his mouth ghosted over her earlobe, "shape," she felt his teeth scrape lightly, causing her pulse to race, "or form." The knuckles of her fist tightened to white at the flick of his tongue along the side of her throat.

Seiran never had fought fair…

Her breath hitched slightly as she felt him leaning over her, his hand sliding down her arm to grasp her wrist. Long, warm, calloused fingers stroked the skin of her inner wrist enticingly slowly.

"I just have a few more pages."

"I will write as you dictate," he insisted, his hand closing around hers to grasp the calligraphy brush. He disentangled her fingers from its long, hard, smooth stem—much to her frustration—and promptly leaned even further forward over her shoulder, deliberately crowding her senses. The familiar clean, musky scent of his skin wafted over her, and she withheld a sigh of pleasure. It was just so very inviting…

His other arm slid across her opposite shoulder to rest against the edge of the table, effectively trapping her in place.

Realising what he'd done, Shuurei swallowed her reaction as his strong arms surrounded her, the lean muscles in them sending small lightning bolts of pleasures past thrumming through her body. If she could just focus, she could finish her work and then spend time with him. Couldn't he understand that?

… and couldn't her body please stop tormenting her with memories of sleepless nights past?

Determined to get his way, Seiran relaxed a moment and let his chin rest atop her head.

Shuurei swallowed, but she couldn't move from her seat without physically encountering him in some way.

Yes, he was definitely playing dirty.

His heartbeat thudded against her, distracting her further.

"Now," he adjusted himself to wrap around her completely, having secured her in her chair, "how would you like me to continue?"

"By taking a step back," she grumbled, crossing her arms across her chest. She was having a minor tantrum, yes, but could he blame her? He was teasing her. Outright teasing her.

Another huff of his breath sent the fine hair at the nape of her neck standing deliciously on end as it blew over them. Her shoulders tensed, and she felt the warmth pooling in her belly in anticipation, much as she hated to admit it. But she wasn't being stubborn, she was being… determined. And dutiful. And…

What was he doing?

Pretending to ignore Shuurei's huff, Seiran leaned down and rested his temple against hers and wrote exactly what she'd said.

_By taking a step back._

"Seiran!"

_Seiran!_

And added his name…

"Would you—what are you—I need to present that tomorrow to-!"

_Would you. What are you. I need to…_

The ink trails crossed the parchment in Seiran's beautiful, elegant scrawl, and Shuurei felt the colour rise in her cheeks as her anger swelled. The way he casually ignored her temper only irritated her further.

"Stop that!" she finally burst, making a grab for the brush again; but Seiran held it aloft, out of her reach, which left Shuurei twisting around in her seat. In retaliation, she shot to standing, facing him, her lovely complexion flushed and eyes fiery.

"What has gotten into you!"

Something in his expression sparked at her words, before leveling on her dangerously.

Seiran took a deep, low breath, and regarded her calmly, simply watching her, and his eyes took on a darker, more calculating allure.

"It is quite the opposite, My Lady," he finally replied, smoothly. His arm lowered, but his eyes remained focused on her golden ones, and he refused to relinquish the writing brush.

Shuurei felt her insides stir low in her belly at the look on his face. Of course she'd been away for some time, but that was her work, it wasn't as if she'd been away from him of her own volition. He was treating her as if she'd abandoned him, and he wanted to punish her – even if it meant him behaving childishly.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Seiran, and I need to finish this. I promise I'll come see you as soon as I'm done," she replied with as much authority as she could muster. Really, he was worse than Ryuuki sometimes…

"It isn't what's gotten into me, it's what hasn't gotten into you, My Lady," he whispered meaningfully, and Shuurei's cheeks blazed crimson at his intentions. "In several long, difficult, lonely weeks."

She wanted to make some flippant retort that he'd just have to be patient, but her mouth had gone dry at the hungry look in his eyes.

Oh.

"And I won't be put off. My Lady has been absent for nearly a month, and we will spend some time together immediately, not later. Now, put away your work," he demanded, his grip on the brush tightening even as he lifted his other hand to her still-warm cheek to trace the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip.

"I-I do need to finish this-," she began, but his mouth lowered to hers to whisper against her lips.

"You will," he assured her, and nipped at her lip. Then continued with a low growl, "but in this I request, just once, me first." 

* * *

AN: I make no profit from this. It is copyright its original creators and rightsholders. Originally written many, many years ago... (2010? 2012?) and forgotten about. I've posted HP and Naruto fics so far this March Break, so enjoy some old school SaiMono, friends. ;) At least, I think I wrote this... It's been a long time.


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